


In Health

by Karios



Category: Leverage
Genre: Deals with Sam's Death, Gen, Mentions Of Infidelity, Mentions of Cancer, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: Maggie did not leave Nate; she let him go.





	In Health

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aroberuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroberuka/gifts).



> Who prompted Maggie's perspective on the end of her marriage.
> 
> Thanks to AlexSeanchai for betaing.

As a mother, she had believed nothing could be harder than watching her Sam battle cancer. The endless schlepping to doctor appointments, tests, and treatments. Long sleepless nights, bedside vigils, watching the clock tick hour by hour, praying for good news that never materialized. Before dragging herself to work again in the morning, pretending to care about stolen paintings and missing jewelry as her son slipped further away, day-by-day. Nothing prepared her—despite the flood of shiny pamphlets she’d taken home from the hospital with every intention of reading—for the reality of opening her eyes on the first morning after that fight was over.

Her eyes were still blurry with tears, her head still pounded in protest as she lifted from the pillow after too short a rest, but suddenly there was no need to continue with forcing herself out of bed. There was no medication waiting in the box on the bedside table, no Sam protesting another dry toast breakfast, no drives to the hospital left to take. The silence it left behind was a wave breaking against the shore of her ears. 

Maggie had hoped that marrying an almost-priest would have meant some comfort at a time like this. That Nathan would have, if not answers, at least something in his training that could pull them together. Failing that, she wanted them to rant, rave, rally against the hand they’d been dealt. Instead, he barely looked up from his bottles; when he did, he burst into tears at the sight of her. Days went by where she wasn't sure he'd moved at all. And when she finally snapped at him to do something, anything at all, Nathan announced he was quitting his job.

“Perfect. That's just perfect. Exactly what I meant.”

“You don't understand,” Nate wailed. She took the time to really look at him: searching his red-rimmed eyes, looking past the mussed hair and half beard, to find her husband underneath. 

She couldn't see him anymore. Her Nate, the one who had promised her forever, for better or worse, in sickness and health.

“You won't let me.” She plucked a bottle from his fingers and savored the sound as the glass shattered when it hit the bottom of the trash.

In a last-ditch effort, Maggie joined a support group, for parents of angels, as they called it. She would scope it out, and if it were good, she might get Nathan to go. Perhaps strangers would be easier to confess to. 

Instead she found herself greeted by a fellow mom, also blond and about her age. “Forgive me, but are you new?”

“I am,” confirmed Maggie. “I’m Maggie.”

“I’m Sam,” the woman replied, and Maggie could no longer form ‘pleased to meet you’ around the lump in her throat. Sam placed a hand on her shoulder. “Is everything all right?”

“My son, his name...” Maggie trailed off, but realization spread across the other woman’s features. Grabbing a marker, Samantha added the remaining letters to her own name tag, before handing the writing implement and blank badge to Maggie. Among the casseroles and condolence cards, it was the first gesture that meant a damn thing. “I could get used to Mandy, if you need me to.”

Maggie shook her head. “I’ve got to get over this. It's a common name.”

“You will,” Samantha assured her, “and the first time you do manage to say his name without tripping over it, you’ll cry about that too.”

At next week's group, Maggie discovered Samantha was right. She also learned that the man who held onto Samantha’s hand as though he were drowning was her boyfriend, not her husband. 

“I know what you're thinking,” Samantha said, catching up with Maggie on her way out. “Grief’s no excuse for an affair.”

That was exactly what any reasonable person would be thinking, Maggie mentally agreed, but she said, “Look, we just met. You don't need to justify yourself to me.”

Samantha turned her ring around and around her finger, staring at it. “My husband buried a part of himself with Becky. I don't know how to love the shell he left behind.”

Maggie understood. “And it's like he doesn't want you to, either. Like he thinks he doesn't deserve you anymore.”

Maggie began staying later at work, taking on more challenging cases that keep her away from home. She came back each time with a flicker of hope that something in Nate would have broken loose, but he only seemed sadder, angier, upon her return. They had another half dozen conservations where they both talked a lot but said nothing. Until, one day, she packed his bags alongside her own, with a note: _Find yourself somewhere other than the bottom of a bottle. I can't lose you too. Love always, Maggie._

When she woke up in the morning, her head was clear and her heart was heavy. The bags and Nate were gone without a word. She had hoped he would finally fight for her then, but it reinforced that she did the right thing. She wondered if Nate would ever tell her why.


End file.
